Cropped Will Cardini artwork

November 27th, 2012

The Werewolf Principle by Clifford D Simak

Filed under: SF Reviews — Tags: , — William Cardini @ 7:06 am

The Werewolf Principle by Clifford D Simak is a fantastic book.

The Werewolf Principle by Clifford D Simak, cover by Ian Miller
Cover by Ian Miller. From pulpcrush’s Flickr photostream.

I have fond memories of reading and re-reading City by Simak but for some reason I’ve never checked out any of his other books. The description of The Werewolf Principle in this Tor blog post about engineering humans for different planetary environments, however, made me want to track it down. I couldn’t find it at any of my usual Austin used sf book haunts, but when I went to NYC for BCGF I visited the new Singularity & Co bookstore in DUMBO and there it was.

The Werewolf Principle by Clifford D Simak, Cover Artist Unknown
Cover artist unknown. From pulpcrush’s Flickr photostream.

Simak’s day job was in journalism and it’s evident in his clear, quickly moving sentences. The dialogue is a little too clunky and expository but where Simak shines is in his unexpected combination of ideas, evocative imagery, and philosophical explorations.

Het Weerwolfprincipe, Dutch Translation of The Werewolf Principle by Clifford D Simak
Dutch translation. Cover artist unknown. From Jan van den Berg’s Flickr photostream.

In The Werewolf Principle, Simak focuses on the dilemma of his protagonist, Andrew Blake, a shapeshifting artificial human who struggles to integrate his implanted memories of a youth in the American Midwest with the consciousness and strange abilities of the two aliens he can transform into: a mystical, telepathic wolf-like creature and an indestructible intelligent pyramid of sludge who is strictly logical and emotionless. If it sounds like a strange setup, it is. Simak eases you into it by starting Andrew Blake, whose name I took as a riff on A Blank, as an amnesiac, found floating frozen in space. Simak also does an admirable job of hinting at the hard-to-understand thought processes of the aliens.

The Werewolf Principle by Clifford D Simak, cover by Richard M Powers
Cover by Richard M Powers. From Cadwalader Ringgold’s Flickr photostream.

Andrew Blake’s struggle to find a place for himself enables Simak to discuss what it means to be human, the consequences of mind uploading and cloning, and the purpose of intelligence in the universe. Simak does all this without straying too far from a small town in the Midwest, placing his story on a future Earth where technology has freed humanity to live a more pastoral life. The Werewolf Principle has its feet planted in Ohio but its eyes focused on the stars, imagining a variety of alien civilizations. In that, it reminds me of Olaf Stapledon’s masterpiece Star Maker, where the narrator walks out on an suburban English hill and has his mind transported throughout the galaxy.

L'Ospite del Senatore Horton, Italian translation of The Werewolf Principle by Clifford D Simak, cover by Karel Thole
Italian translation. Cover by Karel Thole. From Anobii.

What separates The Werewolf Principle from Star Maker is that it hints at the larger life of the galaxy but keeps the story focused on the mental anguish of one person. Simak condenses the sometimes dry descriptions of far too many lifeforms in Star Maker to short descriptions of landscapes: wind-swept alien tundra bathed in starlight, sweltering swamps, yellow domes filled with crustacean intelligences, infinitely tall black towers held together by time kept out of sync, and intergalactic spider webs. Simak also adds a love of the earth and all the things that grow on it. His descriptions of bucolic valleys and moonlit autumnal forests are evocative. However, by keeping The Werewolf Principle short and mostly earthbound, Simak doesn’t reach the same epic heights and almost religious fervor of Star Maker.

The Werewolf Principle by Clifford D Simak, cover by Kelly Freas
Cover painting by Kelly Freas without book title. From Robert Weinberg’s collection on The Illustration Exchange.

In multiple books, Simak uses hard sf concepts to populate small-town America with creatures more typically seen in fantasy novels. The Werewolf Principle has brownies and the titular werewolf. The Goblin Reservation contains banshees, trolls, and goblins (of course). Talking dogs are the dominate the Earth in City. Simak’s concerns, however, are strictly science fiction: the future of humanity and the place of intelligence in the cosmos. I’d definitely recommend checking out his novels.

September 4th, 2012

Jim Starlin’s “Metamorphosis Odyssey” in Epic Illustrated

Filed under: Comics Criticism,SF Reviews — Tags: — William Cardini @ 7:42 am

This past weekend I was flipping through some issues of Epic Illustrated that I bought a while ago on a trip but never got to reading. Epic Illustrated was an attempt by Marvel to cash in on the popularity of Heavy Metal. It was an opportunity for mainstream creators like John Buscema, Neal Adams, and Jim Starlin to draw fantasy and sf stories outside the restrictions of the comics code.

Metamorphic Odyssey by Jim Starlin
A page from the chapter of Jim Starlin’s “Metamorphic Odyssey” in the October 1981 issue of Epic Illustrated. This page has all of the protagonists: a warrior, a nude fairy woman with butterfly wings, an Earth woman, the wizard Aknaton, and the alien cannibal Za. From this blog post.

The first nine issues of Epic Illustrated serialized an epic sf comic by Jim Starlin called “Metamorphosis Odyssey.” I’ve only read two issues but, from what I’ve seen, the story draws on Egyptian mythology to describe a battle for the fate of the galaxy. There’s a quest for a powerful artifact called the Infinity Horn, which seems familiar to me after reading Starlin’s Thanos-centric miniseries, but Starlin uses the freedom of Epic Illustrated to tell a story that has greater consequences than any cosmic battle in a Marvel comic.

Metamorphic Odyssey by Jim Starlin
The splash page for Chapter IX of “Metamorphic Odyssey” in the June 1981 issue of Epic Illustrated. The humanoid on the left, Aknaton, is talking to the god Ra. Aknaton is from the planet Orsirus. These are the Egyptian elements of the story. I like how this page and the previous one I selected incorporate geometric elements. From this blog post.

Starlin continues the story of “Metamorphosis Odyssey” in other graphic novels and his creator-owned series Dreadstar. Despite being a big fan of Starlin’s work in Warlock and Silver Surfer, I haven’t read Dreadstar, but “Metamorphosis Odyssey” makes me want to buy the recently released Dreadstar Omnibus.

Jim Starlin paintings for Dreadstar
I scanned this page of paintings from a Jim Starlin interview in the December 1981 issue of Epic Illustrated. I think they’re supposed to illustrate scenes from the sequels.

What’s interesting about “Metamorphosis Odyssey” is that Starlin paints, rather than draws, the comic. In the first issue the paintings are grayscale but they switch to full color in the second. There’s an interview with Jim Starlin in the December 1981 issue where Starlin talks about his process. He used “blue or reddish-orange” matte boards as the substrate (depending on “the overall tone” he wanted) and then painted in highlights, shadows, and containing lines. He got this technique from looking at Frazetta. This is the only full-color story that I’ve seen Starlin do this way. He says that “the texture of the board kind of threw [him] off in the printing.” I wonder if the paintings could be reproduced more accurately with contemporary printing techniques.

Jim Starlin Metamorphosis Odyssey
I scanned this page from Chapter X of “Metamorphosis Odyssey” in the August 1981 issue of Epic Illustrated. I love how this page is designed, it’s got movement and bold colors. There’s a pretty extensive article on “Metamorphosis Odyssey” and its sequels on Wikipedia if you want to know more.

I also learned some biographical facts about Starlin from the interview. He served in Vietnam War, which was a primary inspiration for “Metamorphosis Odyssey,” but was kicked out for his attitude. One thing that Starlin did to get discharged was to draw and distribute an anti-war comic called The Eagle. I’d like to see that!

August 21st, 2012

The Dancers at the End of Time by Michael Moorcock

Filed under: SF Reviews — Tags: , , , , — William Cardini @ 7:42 am

Last week I stayed up late almost every night devouring The Dancers at the End of Time trilogy by Michael Moorcock. The three books are An Alien Heat (1971), The Hollow Lands (1974), and The End of All Songs (1976).

An Alien Heat written by Michael Moorcock cover by Mark Rubin and Irving Freeman
Cover by Mark Rubin and Irving Freeman. This is the edition that I read, I picked them all up in the clearance section of Half-Price Books.

The setting is Earth at the end of time, and humanity has achieved immortality, seemingly inexhaustible energy sources, and highly advanced technology that you can use to create anything imaginable by manipulating power rings. But because the human race has been around for millions and millions of years, concepts that are so integral to our lives like work, religion, philosophy, art, and morality have lost all meaning. So instead of using their nearly unlimited power to create great monuments or explore the galaxy, our descendants throw elaborate parties where they try to one-up each other and have casual sex regardless of gender or familial relation.

An Alien Heat written by Michael Moorcock cover by Sue Greene
Cover by Sue Greene. Also from my personal library. Moorcock books always have great covers.

It’s never made clear exactly how humanity came to this point of ultimate decadence but it reminds me of the Stanislaw Lem short story “Altruizine,” collected in his fantastic book The Cyberiad. In this story, the constructor Klaupacius travels to a planet with a civilization that has attained the Highest Possible Level of Development (H.P.L.D.). Instead of doing advanced scientific or altruistic works, the inhabitants of this planet (which is shaped like a cube) loaf about in hyper-intelligent sand and only pick their noses or scratch their butts. Eventually, after some coercion, an inhabitant of this planet explains that the H.P.L.D.’s tried astro-engineering but gave up after deciding that there was really no reason to remake nature – “Would the universe be a better place if stars were triangular, or comets went around on wheels?”. The H.P.L.D.’s then tried to make all sentient beings in the universe happy but discovered that it was impossible to do so. Therefore, they’ve given meddling up and just lay around observing and pleasuring themselves.

An Alien Heat written by Michael Moorcock cover artist unknown
Cover artist unknown. I saved the best for last. From Michael Moorcock’s personal site.

So, probably with a similar outlook, the inhabitants of the Earth at the end of time only party, trying out different styles, ideas, and experiences out of an unquenchable desire for novelty. Of course, if Moorcock’s The Dancers at the End of Time was only this elaborate setting, the trilogy would quickly become boring. The conflict comes from time travelers that end up stranded in this idyll and find it disgusting debauchery but are unable to escape because of the nature of time travel in this cosmos. The protagonist, Jherek Carnelian, the last man born from a womb (rather than created as a fully-formed adult), and thus a darling of this future society, decides that his latest affectation is going to be falling in love with one of the time travelers, a woman named Mrs. Underwood from a 19th century suburb of London. The interplay and misunderstandings between Jherek and Mrs. Underwood form the comic core of these novels. Every interaction between a delight to read. And the plot is fast-paced. Moorcock throws up marvel after marvel, twist after twist. I highly recommend this trilogy. I get the sense that it ties in loosely with Moorcock’s multiverse. The protagonist’s name, Jherek Carnelian, echoes that of one of the Eternal Champions, Jerry Cornelius, a hip spy and provocateur. I’ve only read Elric so I’m not familiar enough to catch any other references but I plan on reading more Moorcock soon, including a short story collection in this same setting.

August 7th, 2012

The Quest of the Riddle-Master by Patricia McKillip

Filed under: SF Reviews — Tags: , , — William Cardini @ 9:14 pm

I just finished the fantasy trilogy The Quest of the Riddle-Master, written by Patricia McKillip. The three books are The Riddle-Master of Hed (1976), Heir of Sea and Fire (1977), and Harpist in the Wind (1979). The trilogy is a beautifully written story with many twists and turns. I won’t spoil any specific plot points but I’m going to discuss the story generally in this review.

Harpist in the Wind by Patricia McKillip cover by Darrell K Sweet
Cover art by Darrell K Sweet. I’m not really a fan of Sweet’s Wheel of Time covers but I dig this one. From my personal collection.

Click here to read the rest and see some of my spoilery fan art.

June 12th, 2012

Prometheus Thoughts with Spoilers

Filed under: SF Reviews,Sketchbook Pages — Tags: , — William Cardini @ 7:59 am

I’ve now seen Prometheus twice so I’d like to tell y’all my spoiler-filled thoughts. I’ve read a lot of reviews and opinions seem generally mixed: the visuals are spectacular but the plot, science, and character motivations are weak. I see what these reviews are saying but I give Prometheus some leeway just because there are so few big budget, big idea sf movies. For example, I find the ideas in Erich von Däniken’s Chariots of the Gods to be complete fantasy. But that doesn’t stop me from enjoying the mythic resonance of Jack Kirby’s The Eternals and it doesn’t stop me from digging Prometheus. And like The The Eternals, Prometheus is showing us our place in the cosmos by investigating the myth of the Titans.

The beginning sequence of Prometheus shows the Earth being seeded with life. An Engineer is transformed into the primordial soup of DNA strands. Why would the Engineers seed the earth with life, come back and check on it after millions of years, and then try to destroy it? Maybe it was because they could, the same answer that Charlie gives David for why humanity would create synthetic people with artificial intelligence. Or maybe the answer’s more sinister and the Engineers created humanity to provide the Engineers with test subjects for their weapons of mass destruction.

I dig Prometheus because it plays with ideas as large as a planet and as old as life. Throw in body horror, deadly impregnations, and highly sexualized monster designs that approach Johnny Ryan’s Prison Pit and I’m sold. It’s not as good as Alien but hardly any movie can match that spare masterpiece.

Even after seeing all of the riffs on the xenomorph in Prometheus, the original xenomorph remains my favorite sf creature. It’s ruthless, it’s terrifying, it has no eyes but it knows exactly where you are. It’ll impregnate you with its young and destroy you. We have no idea how intelligent they are. In the Alien quadrilogy, they are a force of nature. Does it spoil my appreciation of the xenomorph to know that they are purposefully created weapons? No. In the other Alien movies, we get hints that Weyland-Yutani wants specimens to use as templates for biological weaponry. With its metal teeth, acid blood, and shiny reflective carapace, the xenomorph already inhabits a weird limbo between machine and animal. And I love the idea of the mutagenic ur-Alien ooze that the Prometheus crew encounters in the skull-topped pyramid. We see so many varieties of effects and creatures that I can only assume that the ooze delivers individualized destruction.

I can forgive the rushed, reckless investigation of the Prometheus crew by thinking of Elizabeth and Charlie as religious zealots on a quest instead of rational scientists. Shaw’s faith in particular is unshakeable. Even when our creators want to wipe us out she still clings to her cross. It reminds me of Philip K Dick’s gnostic outlook: our world is a place of evil, therefore the being who created the cosmos is evil; but Christ delivers salvation from outside the evil material world. Or maybe that faith is a delusion and it’s just more massive, more implacable, and more evil giants all the way up to the source of the universe.

If the Prometheus sequels get made they could definitely ruin my enjoyment by providing too many unsatisfying explanations and not enough mysteries. I’m not really interested in seeing exactly how we get from the last scene of Prometheus to the crashed spaceship the crew of the Nostromo finds on Alien.

June 5th, 2012

Prometheus, Alien, and Aliens – A Spoiler-Free Discussion of Tone and Themes

I’m a big fan of the Alien series. I dig all of the movies in the quadrilogy, even the usually panned Alien Resurrection (c’mon, it’s directed by Jeunet!), so I’ve been super stoked that Ridley Scott is returning to the Alien universe. Last week I saw an advanced screening of Prometheus and then rewatched Alien and Aliens over the weekend. I’m going to discuss the difference in themes and tone in all three without spoiling any plot points of Prometheus.


Bolaji Badejo in the Alien costume.

Alien is one of the greatest sf movies of all time. Every time I rewatch it, that status further solidifies. The first half of the movie is suspenseful even when you know what’s going to happen (does that validate arguments that spoilers don’t ruin a movie?). The tech looks dated but I can believe that a space mining company looking to save money would retrofit some terminals. The room where the captain and Ripley consult with Mother and its blinking lights still has a futuristic sheen and the space ship and suits have the appropriate level of grunge. One detail that my wife noticed was that no one’s wearing makeup. You feel for these people who are tired and just want to get home but are set off-track for some potentially unpaid overtime by their corporate overlords.


The spacesuits in Alien were designed by Moebius.

The slow pans and long setup of Alien remind me of 2001. This viewing I noticed that the effects for the explosion of the Nostromo look very similar to the effects used for Bowman’s trip into the monolith. There are two flat planes of effects that recede towards the horizon. According to this extensive article on 2001’s special effects, the two receding planes were created by a slit scan machine created by Douglas Trumbull. I can’t find any information on how they created the Nostromo explosion.


A still of the Nostromo explosion.

Aliens throws all of this grunginess and seriousness of Alien away. In Alien, Ripley was a competent woman just doing her job with a clear head. She gets thrust into the center of the narrative by seeing the sense in following protocol. But in Aliens, Cameron saddles Ripley with a tragic backstory beyond an understandable case of PTSD. Then he weighs the plot down with brash, bumbling space marines and a little kid that has to be rescued. After the spare horror of Alien, Aliens feels bloated with guns and screaming. Maybe I’m being too harsh on Cameron because of Avatar. The xenomorph nest and queen are excellent, horrific creations. The idea of being cocooned in resin waiting for a facehugger is chilling and expands on the body horror of being used by a parasite.


A still of the alien queen.

Prometheus is also a digression from Alien but, unlike Aliens, I enjoy how it changes the tone and adds to the themes. What can I say, it’s easy to win me over with spectacular, expansive alien vistas. There are also mystic elements, thought-provoking ruminations on creation. Some of the ways these ideas are expressed didn’t quite hold up to my understanding of the science involved but I still appreciate that the movie poses the questions.


HR Giger’s drawing of the space jockey.

The best part of Prometheus, though, is how it expands on the extraterrestial designs in Alien. Also, it continues the tradition of strong female central characters. In particular, I’m pleased to report that Prometheus passes the Bechdel Test.


Noomi Rapace in Prometheus.

I’m going to have a spoiler post on Prometheus next Tuesday.

January 27th, 2012

The Player of Games by Iain M. Banks

Filed under: SF Reviews — Tags: , , — William Cardini @ 7:13 am

Since my last post, I’ve been staying up late burning through The Player of Games by Iain M. Banks. I loved it. This is now unofficial Banks week at the Hypercastle.

The Player of Games by Iain M Banks
Cover by Mark Salwowski, via qualityapeman’s Flickr stream.

The Player of Games is a much better introduction to The Culture than either of the other books I’ve read, Consider Phlebas (the first published Culture book) and Matter. The Player of Games is a tightly structured story of the confrontation between one Culture person, Jernau Morat Gurgeh, and a very different society. Banks is leisurely in the introduction, showing us “the extended cocktail party” that is the Culture, as Russ Allbery put it in his review. In the latter two thirds of the book, Banks shows us the Culture in contrast to its enemy. I’m usually not very taken with utopias but I find the Culture totally captivating. It’s the perfect escape for a feminist leftist rationalist artist. When I allow myself to hope, I dream that the arc of history is bending humanity towards something similar. Therefore I found it especially thrilling when Gurgeh’s story pits his values against an oppressive capitalist interstellar empire that is the dark shadow of our future. Unlike the other Banks sf books I’ve read, The Player of Games has much more thought than action. The conflict centers around matches of a byzantine board game called Azad. We are told that Azad is incredibly complicated but fortunately Banks leaves all but a few evocative details to our imagination. Another intriguing sf conceit in the book is the three-sexed species that rules the Empire of Azad, especially when the narrator breaks the fourth wall and discusses the reasoning behind pronouns choices. Does it make it easier to see the effects of patriarchy through the twisted mirror of an all together alien gender? Outside of the combined critique of capitalism, imperialism, and patriarchy, what I most enjoyed about this book was reading about Gurgeh excelling at the game bouts. There’s something compelling about following the exploits of a highly competent individual. But if you prefer your protagonist to be more relatable, human, and flawed, this is not the book for you.

January 24th, 2012

Matter by Iain M. Banks – Advanced Aliens in Westeros

This past Sunday I finished Matter by Iain M. Banks. It’s the third sf novel by Banks that I’ve read, and each one is a hefty meal of highly visual action on an enormous scale. They are both alternatingly grotesque and funny – I’ve been keeping my wife up half of the night with my guffaws. Imagine my surpise, then, when I read reviews on the Internet and discover that the ones I’ve read (the aforementioned Matter, The Algebraist, and Consider Phlebas) are considered (the first two more so than the tragic Consider Phlebas) to be some of Iain M Banks’ lesser sf works. Considering how they compare to most fsf, I’m eager to read what fans consider his better ones. I wasn’t entirely satisfied with Matter but it was thought provoking.

Consider Phlebas speculative cover by Luke John Frost
I’m not a huge fan of the current covers of Banks’ books and it was hard to find good images of the Salwowski covers, so I was delighted to find these speculative covers that Luke John Frost made for a school project.

In Matter, I thoroughly enjoyed the philosophical detours, witty dialogue, grand vistas, and the concept of a fantasy faux-European setting nested within a space opera galaxy. Any sf cosmos that includes level upon level of more powerful beings is going to get me. That idea is at the heart of the Hyperverse, after all. Although the climax came and went rather abruptly, I liked how Banks subverted my expectations for how the story was going to end up by destroying two thirds of the knot of plotlines with one bold slice. But I also stumbled on some of the book’s flaws. Although the nerd in me reveled in the pages-long aside that described all of the depths and adjectives of the shellworld Sursamen, the early, heavy chunk of exposition dropped me out of the flow. I think that the information could be more smoothly integrated in the narrative. Similarly, a lot of the plot of the book involves the main characters being pulled from place to place by forces beyond their control. Maybe I’ve read one too many long quests in a fantasy novel, but I got tired of that quickly. However, I simultaneously appreciated how the character’s inability to control their fates related to the larger theme of the insignificance of the individual.

Player of Games speculative cover by Luke John Frost
Another speculative cover by Luke John Frost.

What struck me the most was how the themes and plot structure of Matter reminded me of A Song of Ice and Fire by George R. R. Martin. I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the ultimate meaning behind the violence, oppression, and hopelessness that Martin portrays because of Sean T. Collins’ excellent (and rife with spoilers) tumblr All Leather must be Boiled. In multiple posts, Collins analyzes how Martin uses war, realpolitik, and fanatic warriors to condemn the havoc and tragedy that these forces bring to civilization. Replace magic with incredibly high technology (which, as Wizard Clarke has told us, are indistinguishable) and Banks does the same, with both Consider Phlebas and Matter. Things get even more interesting when you add the moral dimension of the Culture to the mix, who try to assist civilizations in developing past systemic violence and oppression, but do so by sometimes fostering those same tragedies. Basically, you could read Matter as the answer to the hypothetical question, “What if super advanced aliens intervened in the conflicts in Westeros and Essos?”

Excession speculative cover by Luke John Frost
A third speculative cover by Luke John Frost.

I wanted to read Excession next, which sounds like the best, but all they had at my local used book shop was The Player of Games and Use of Weapons so I’ll tackle those. I don’t think I’ll read all of Banks’ sf novels in one go though – I like the idea that there are superb sf novels still out there for me that I know I’ll enjoy. If I have any more thoughts worth sharing, I’ll be sure to post them here. If this post has made you curious about Banks, you should read this article by Annalee Newitz on io9 that summarizes Banks’ most popular creation, the Culture, a utopian vision of what our future could be, and has summarizes of the various books. It’s what got me to check him out originally.

January 17th, 2012

Is Melancholia Possible? An Alternate Ending

I saw Lars von Trier’s movie Melancholia this past weekend. It’s beautiful, epic, and tragic. To sum it up, sublime, in the Romantic sense of the word. It’s like a big dumb object science fiction book but with a much greater focus on human emotion than those kinds of novels typically have.

Rendezvous with Rama by Arthur C Clarke, cover artist not credited
Rendezvous with Rama by Arthur C Clarke, one of the most well-known big dumb object sf books. Cover artist not credited. Via the Internet Speculative Fiction Database.

Whether it’s Melancholia, Rama, the Stone, or Jupiter, we keenly feel the insignificance of our place in the cosmos when we contemplate enormous and mysterious objects of great power.

Melancholia still
A still from Melancholia, via a review on The Wolfman Cometh blog. The reflected light from the Moon and Melancholia casts two shadows.

But after watching Melancholia, my mind is full of more than sublimity and sorrow – I’m also left wondering, “Is that even possible?” Melancholia appears to be a rogue planet, a planet that has been ejected by its original solar system and doomed to wander the galaxy, its path subject to the gravity wells of any random mass it encounters. When a paper was published this past May that calculated that there may be more rogue planets lost in the Milky Way than stars in the sky, rational skeptic Phil Plait posted about the likelihood of one hitting Earth on the Bad Astronomy blog. His conclusion was that, while there’s a chance that a a rogue planet could pass closer to our solar system than the nearest star, it’s extremely unlikely that one would hit Earth. This makes intuitive sense to me – our planet is a tiny blue dot in the cold, black vastness of space.

Eon by Greg Bear, cover by Ron Miller
Eon by Greg Bear, my favorite big dumb object sf book. Cover by Ron Miller. I scanned this from my personal library. Some of the imagery in this book actually inspired parts of my comic VORTEX.

But let’s say a rogue planet did come barreling through our solar system. Even then, the scenario wouldn’t necessarily play out the same as it does in the movie. According to a thread on the Stack Exchange forum for “active researchers, academics and students of physics”, what results from the interaction of three different masses in three different positions traveling at three different speeds (in this case, Melancholia, the Earth, and the Moon, eliding the also relevant influence of the Sun and other planets) is a notoriously troublesome outcome to calculate (it’s called the three-body problem), so who’s the say what exactly would happen if Melancholia passed by the Earth.


Das Eismeer / Die verunglückte Nordpolexpedition, Die verunglückte Hoffnung (1823-1824) by Caspar David Friedrich, a Romantic painter of the sublime. Via Sights Within.

One possibility, more likely than destruction, is that the gravitation influence of another, much larger planet would fling Earth out of the solar system. Rather than a fiery cataclysm, it would be a slow decline. The Sun would grow more distant each day. Global cooling would replace global warming. The oceans would slumber under a thick crust of ice. Carbon dioxide would fall from the sky like snow. Once the atmosphere froze to the surface, the stars would harden to unblinking knives of light. The remaining energy of the earth’s molten core would feed small pockets of microbial life in a subsurface ocean but it would be a lonely, cold existence soaring through the eternal night.

November 30th, 2011

Belated Thanksgiving Post: An Appreciation of Anne McCaffrey

Filed under: SF Reviews — Tags: , — William Cardini @ 12:56 am

I know this is the week after Thanksgiving, and thanks are traditionally spoken beforehand, but I’d like to offer some gratitude to the recently departed Anne McCaffrey: Thank you for giving me an escape from the bullying and loneliness of my chubby nerd middle school life.

Dragonflight cover by Michael Whelan
The cover for the first book in the original Dragonriders of Pern trilogy, Dragonflight, artwork by Michael Whelan.

I still distinctly remember the day I first encountered a book by Anne McCaffrey. I was in middle school. I’d read The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings but not much else science fiction or fantasy. I was a total dinosaur nerd. I was complaining to my Dad about not having a good book to read, and he said, “I think I can help you.” We went to my brother’s room, and my Dad pulled down several cardboard boxes from the closet full of his old science fiction and fantasy paperbacks from the 60s and 70s. There were books by Isaac Asimov, Cordwainer Smith, Philip K Dick, Clark Ashton Smith, Arthur C Clarke, Algis Budrys, Larry Niven, Stanislaw Lem, many others (these boxes of books supplied me with reading material until I moved out of my parents’ house), and Anne McCaffrey. My Dad dug through the boxes, flipping through each book and discarding them until he uncovered Dragonflight and Dragonsdawn. He said, “You like dinosaurs, read these. They’re about dragons.” I was hooked. I stayed up all night reading them.

Dragonquest cover by Michael Whelan
The cover for the second book in the original Dragonriders of Pern trilogy, Dragonquest, artwork by Michael Whelan.

I read about Pern and other Anne McCaffrey universes for years. I bought every new Pern book when it came out. I got teary eyed when major characters died. But my favorite Pern book, by far, was The White Dragon.

The White Dragon cover by Michael Whelan
The cover for the third book in the original Dragonriders of Pern trilogy, The White Dragon, artwork by Michael Whelan. My favorite.

I read The White Dragon over and over again until it fell apart. I got a white sweater with the cover art. I felt like I was the main character, Jaxom, riding the titular white dragon. I was a chubby nerd – I definitely would’ve gotten the runt dragon (if I got one at all). But like Jaxom and his dragon, I had a secret power – the fantastic worlds that I would imagine, bolstered by Anne McCaffrey’s books, gave me some respite from teasing and alienation and let me experience the soaring flight of a good read. Thank you Anne McCaffrey. I think it’s time I got another copy of The White Dragon to reread.